Cati and the peanuts are still in Spain; and still, I am not [double entendre?]. But hey, duty beckons– we Americans didn’t put a man on the moon by taking vacations.*
This picture captures the all-too-limited extent of my interaction with my beloved “crew.” I miss ‘em sumthin’ awful; how lucky we are to have Skype though– it really helps.
Don’t worry about them; they are alright. Here’s another Skype snapshot as proof:
To avoid being a fool who uses himself as an attorney**, I’ll employ Bill Withers to sing my case for me.
Sing it, Bill!
Hurry home, girls.
*Everytime I utter this sentence, and I do so often, Cati rolls her eyes in a long and archicing fashion.
** A laconic aphorism from someone more clever than me.